


Something too Precious to Spoil

by Florance_Tallis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Older Man/Younger Woman, Unintentional flirting, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florance_Tallis/pseuds/Florance_Tallis
Summary: 1960First kiss - twice.
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall/Elphinstone Urquart
Kudos: 9





	Something too Precious to Spoil

1960

Spending the entire Saturday together from sunrise to sunset was not according to their original plans, but Elphinstone, rather uncharacteristically, did not mind the change in his schedule. The Estate was enormous, Hogsmade had its hidden treasures too, and they just could not get tired of talking. Yet another topic came up, and so they took one more round around the lake, walked an extra mile, sit in to have lunch, waited another hour to pass them by. Her eyes were vivacious, her smile genuine, her gestures less reserved. She seemed relaxed and open in his company. At least, more relaxed and open then when she had been working for him.

The wizard found himself to be less rigid too. For the first time in forever, he discussed genuinely personal topics with another human being, and the next thing he knew was that he gave away information about his French and German language proficiency, his holiday habits (or rather, the lack thereof) and that he neither had nicknames, nor did he desire to have one.

‘Yes out of all options,  _‘Elphinstone’_ suits a man like you the most,’ she declared after a long moment of pondering.

They were sitting on a bench outside Hogsmade, facing the peaceful village.

‘A man like me?’ he arched an eyebrow.

‘A man of dignified propriety of conduct.’ Minerva said without thinking, and instinctively sat a little taller.

‘Is it how I appear to be?’ His already deep voice almost unnoticeably dropped another notch.

She arched her eyebrow too, mimicking his expression with an ill-concealed smile playing around her lips.

‘Oh, it was euphemism, I take.’ He hummed with bitter realization.

‘I recalled my first impression of _Mr. Urquart,_ that is all.’ For some reason the memory amused her since she was still fighting off the smile about to spread across her face.

‘And may I inquire about the difference?’

’The difference?’

’Between Mr. Urquart then and Mr. Urquart now. If there is any, that is.’ Elphinstone was entering uncharted territory, and he was feeling unsure if it was wise at all to ask her about her perception of him.

‘I used to think that you were formidable.’ She narrowed her eyes a bit as she was looking for the right words. ‘Intimidating.’

‘And you don’t think so anymore.’ It was not a question.

‘I don’t think that you are  _that_ formidable,’ she said sincerely, then turned away, looking for her water bottle. 

He sat back, allowing his gaze to roam over her. She was beautiful in her neat, modest dress and with her hair in a perfect bun. Beautiful. And clueless about how she made his heart beat.

‘And what about you,  _Professor_? Do you fancy any nickname?’ Elphinstone asked, smoothing his beard absent-mindedly.

‘Oh, no!’ she turned back around right away.

‘ _Minnie...? Mina...?_ ’ Pronouncing those obviously unfitting and syrupy nicknames felt foreign to his nature, but teasing her caused him an odd kind of satisfaction.

‘Merlin, no! One is more atrocious than the other!’ Her eyes widened. 

‘ _Nerva_ then, perhaps?’

‘No! Just... no.’ She shivered.

The corner of his mouth twitched, the gesture feeling odd on his face, since smiling wasn’t something he did often. But around her, he involuntarily did it more than... ever. 

‘You are quite right, _darling_. You were named after a Roman goddess, and it is akin to a crime to disrespect such a noble name like that.’

‘Exactly,’ she pointed the bottle at him approvingly. 

As she turned away to drink, a leaf in her hair - probably fallen from the tree above them -, caught Elphinstone’s eyes, and he had to forcibly stop himself to reach his hand out and sweep it away without asking for her permission. Not only that, but he just called her  darling a moment ago! He had grown way too comfortable around her, the wizard noted with a strong disapproval of his faltering decorum.

‘What is the matter? That was a menacingly concerned look...’ She frowned, tilting her head.

‘There is...’ he cleared his throat. ‘Something in... your, well, in your... hair, and-’

She froze and the blood visibly drenched from her face.

‘What is it?’ she whispered, her body suddenly turning tense and visibly switching to fight or flight mode.

‘A leaf. By your left ear,’ he said, his words clipped, surprised by her reaction.

But his parsimony made her even more uneasy.

‘No, no, it’s not a leaf, you wouldn’t be looking at me  in such a way if it was just a leaf.’

By the desperate tinge in her tone, Elphinstone realized that he had made a grave mistake. The combination of the mis-readable expression on his face and his choice of words might have implied peril: ‘ _something_ ’ tangled in her hair, close to her face.

‘Whatever it is, please remove it.’ Her voice was strained and stiff, trying to cover her rising uneasiness rather poorly. ‘Please, remove it from my hair. Now.’

The wizard leaned forward unhurriedly, took her left hand, then guided it to the little, poor, vilified leaf. Her delicate wrist jerked in his large hand as she touched the serrated edge of the little green piece, but eventually, as her brain made the connection, she let out a relieved sigh. Elphinstone brought their hands back to eye level and twirled the leaf around. 

‘There. So formidable.’

Minerva was tomato red and looked everywhere, but at him.

She managed to squeeze out a thank you. ‘Now it’s safe to say that I feel like a fool. Please... don’t look at me like that.’

‘How?’

‘Wonderingly.’ He dropped her gaze and pulled her hand out of his as shame lit her face ever redder. ‘I am not... I am usually not this irrational.’

Elphinstone wanted to reassure her that he was not wondering at her ‘irrationality’, and that he was not disappointed in her for getting scared of an unidentified object stuck in her hair, but then he realized he probably should explain the real meaning of his wonderment, and that he was not ready for.

‘Why does it concern you, if I may ask, how I happen to regard you?’ 

She smoothed her skirt. ‘Could be... the remnants of a boss-assistant dynamic. Living up to the standards of someone whose standards I myself approve of.’

‘Is it about seeking approval?’ 

She looked up at him. He was frowning a bit.

‘I might have my astrological birth chart read, and then report back to you what the luminaries indicate, I promise.’ She managed to keep a straight face while delivering such an utter nonsense.

Elphinstone laughed at that, taking even himself by surprise.  _Laughed...!_ At least, a burst of deep, rumbling sound, resembling very much of laughter came out of him, and his broad shoulders were shaking with it. It did not take more than a couple of seconds, but it did happen.

‘So this is how it sounds like,’ Minerva twinkled, her _joie de vivre_ returning immediately. ‘I have always wanted to hear it!’

‘Please don’t tell a soul,’ he protested with his hands up. ‘It would certainly ruin my reputation as an impassive stone-heart.’ 

‘From now on, you are in my hand, at my mercy, Mr. Urquart.’ She sprang up.

‘Brave words from a girl getting flustered by a leaf.’ The man stood up too, slowly, with intent. Their movements were in great contrast.

‘It was an exceptionally big leaf,’ she insisted, her feline-like eyes narrowing, this time almost playfully. ‘Besides, I am a  _woman_ , _not a_ _girl_. ’

He definitely had not failed to noticed that, the thought crossed Elphinstone’s mind as he was watching her walking ahead in the direction of the village. 

She stirred all sorts of uncomfortable emotions in him he had never thought he was capable of feeling at all. Doubt, agony, empathy, the purest form of joy, and something distinctively, yet inexplicably romantic and delicate which had never been present in his previous affairs. And apart from feelings, her sight and voice and touch also stirred much less unfamiliar sensations in him, arousing his interest and excitement, together with a primal, raw urge that definitely did not belong in the framework of their precariously balanced relationship. 

‘ _Are you coming or not?’_ Her voice hit him unexpectedly as a magical speech-bubble popped right next to his right ear. From a distance he saw her charming into being another translucent bubble, and he started to pick up his pace, because she did not seem to be willing to walk backwards to meet him halfway.

Elphinstone was pleasantly exhausted by the time they had reached Hogwarts’ gates at dusk. He was neither dressed for nor had he expected a field day, but as he took a look at his muddy oxford style leather shoes as well as at the soggy hem of his suit pants and thought of his aching muscles, he knew it was worth it. 

The Scotch mist was drizzling lightly over and around them as she turned to face him. 

‘I’m afraid I took up too much of your precious time.’

‘I am more than delighted you did,’ Elphinstone said, his voice coming out slightly more rustier than usual. He cleared his throat. ‘It was time well spent.’

‘I am glad we had this opportunity to catch up on...’ she paused. ‘...life. It’s been a while since we could exchange a word.’

They might have stood a little too close to each other, because she took a step back, almost unrecognizably, but kept looking up at him with her pupils dilating visibly, in reverse synchronicity with the fading sunlight around them. Elphinstone suddenly felt too tall, and somewhat too robust, too formal in his attire and too - and it was the most painful to admit for some reason - old compared to her. The face looking up at him was youthful and peachy. He pushed the sombre thoughts away.

‘Am I not mistaken that this is the awkward part where we slowly phase out whatever left and say goodbye without too much _“_ _well then”_ and _“_ _so yeah, um_ _”_ and  _“keep in touch”_ in between?’

She smiled softly. ‘Not yet, I hope. Not before I show you this. I found it in an old folder, and I figured it might interest you.’ 

The witch pulled out a parchment from her pocket. 

‘Do you know what day it is today?’

‘August the 18th.’

‘Yes,’ she nodded, unfolding the document. It was a verified copy of a registration parchment filled out on the first day of incoming ministry employees.

‘Therefore?’ he asked cautiously.

‘My first day at the office was on the 18th of August, exactly six years ago.’

They had met six years ago for the first time, that was all Elphinstone could hear. She had entered his life and had turned it upside down and inside out six bloody years ago.

‘Well then...’ He had no idea how to react to this information. He did not reach for the parchment.

‘We also met on that day,’ she remarked as she was trying to stuff the registration document back into her pocket.

‘Did we?’

‘Yes, on my very first day. I was so afraid, the Human Resources Department had told me in the morning less than enticing stories and several warnings about you.’ 

‘Such as?’

‘That Mr. Urquart is a ruthless, sinister perfectionist who will have me working overtime every single day, and will not tolerate mistakes of any sort, so I‘d better not miss a beat.’ 

‘I mean, that proved to be just about correct,’ he mumbled, with a darkish edge in his tone as he recalled how much pressure he had put on her at times. He had kept testing her, kept raising the bar and she had impressively rarely failed to meet the challenge.

She was still occupied with the parchment while she was speaking. ‘But on the flip side, Mr. Urquart was described as very handsome and owner of a nice deep, husky voice to tell me off with. So they weren’t that sorry for me after all, because they thought that the audiovisual experience would balance the rest out.’

She finally finished to tuck the document back into her pocket, and their eyes met.

‘They also told me that you were professionally highly acknowledged and it would be rewarding for me to work under you.’

‘You quitted the Department too early to determine it.’

‘No. I have always thought it to be rewarding. From day one.’

Elphinstone was observing her face for long seconds. His eyes were screening her features from her eyes to her temple and delicate jawline before they settled on her lips.

‘Young,’ he said without much context.

‘Pardon me?’ Minerva frowned slightly.

‘It occurred to me, when I first met you, that you were way too young. Compared to what was on your  _résumé_.’

‘Was I a disappointment?’

‘No.’ His features softened. ‘A pleasant surprise.’ 

A smile appeared on her face, thinning her lips out.

‘And let this flattery be the final word for today. It is indeed late.’ He reached out a hand out of habit, but the motion was halted halfway through. 

He did not know why he did that, they were way beyond the handshake phase, so instead he stepped closer and kissed her cheek. 

‘Goodbye,’ he murmured, his deep, low voice resonating in the space between them.

He was about to draw back when something distinctively floral and clean-scented hit his senses: she leaned forward as well, hesitating for a moment, as if she was unable to decide if she wanted to press her mouth against the side of his face already close to her, or to switch to the other one.

He turned his head slightly, a half-conscious move, and their lips met briefly. 

They both fell momentarily in a state of daze, but Elphinstone snapped back more quickly, even though his head was spinning and he felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs. _This is the part where you apologize and draw back, _he warned himself, but instead, as he would have been a bystander to his own actions, pressed lightly against her lips.

His move was somewhat tentative at first; for a couple of moments it was just their lips sealed to each other. He felt her palm being placed on his chest and she gasped out softly, lips parting - out of instinct and surprise. 

Their tongues met. Smoothly, like it was the most natural and logical progression at that point. And it was, wasn’t it?

There was nothing dramatic, overly passionate or hungry about it, and he himself was taken by surprise when it came to his unusual gentleness and tact. But Elphinstone was aware of how precious that moment was, and that there was no place for anything demanding or all-consuming, a nd so he successfully overcame the urge to sneak one of his arm around her, even though he wanted so ridiculously much to steady her against the long line of him. 

Her trembling palm slid a bit upwards on his chest, sending ripples through his entire body, and he was almost sure that she raised on the tip of her toes.  But despite that... she remained mostly unresponsive, merely receptive. 

In fact, she was not kissing him back. 

The thought of it was less than uplifting. 

_She was not kissing him back._

_ Damn it._ He just blew it, Elphinstone was certain about that.  As he stopped, he felt her rapid breath on his lips right away. 

The pressure on his chest grew. She was gently pushing him away, startled and flushing with embarrassment.  When he leaned back, Elphinstone noticed her eyes being unfocused, her chest heaving.

xxx

‘I assure you that no one has ever called me like that.’

‘ _Elph?’ _

‘Yes. It sounds like  _elf_ which is probably the last thing I resemble or aspire to resemble of.’

They were sitting on a bench just outside the village after a long day of wandering around the Hogwarts grounds, and Minerva was having a wonderful time. She had always been very much fond of his former boss, and her affection had grown towards him even more since they had ceased to be colleagues. It was always a pleasure to have him around Hogwarts. She had found him to be an intriguing person before, and having learned about some personal things of him, her curiosity was further stoked. He was fluent in French and German, never took days off (she had suspected that already), and deplored all nicknames one could make out of his first name.

‘And what about...  _Phin_ for instance? Or  _El...?’_

He paused for a moment, his eyes studying her facial features.

‘I have no nicknames, Minerva, and Merlin forbid that anyone should come up with one. This name as such is already testing my patience every day.’

‘Do you have a middle name?’

‘I do.’ His tone suggested that he did not wish to linger on the topic any longer, and so the witch did not press the issue further.

‘Yes out of all options,  ‘Elphinstone’ suits a man like you the most,’ she declared after pondering for a long moment.

She knew that names were a delicate topic, for they were rather personal, deeply ingrained in one’s identity. And her own nickname options were less than great either. Dougal used to call her  Mina, and although she had not liked it, she had been (and never ceased to be being) beyond besotted with the boy, and so she had never revealed her dislike about what Dougal had thought to be so very special. 

From Elphinstone’s lips that nickname sounded even more ridiculous and childish. And if she hadn’t known him, she would have suspected that he was deliberately teasing her. If she hadn’t known him, she would have thought that there was a moment when he... no. But then... at some point he was about to reach for her face to touch it maybe, but he eventually kept his hand for himself, and that polite if distant mask on his face. 

She couldn’t quite read his signals. Minerva knew that the wizard liked her enough to toy with the idea of marrying her. He had brought up the topic once, in his reserved and businesslike way. But that proposal attempt had occurred about three years ago, and she could not tell anyway if he had ever been genuinely interested in her or... his suggestion had been just something sensible and calculated. 

She had never asked, and he had never told her, but he had probably wanted children, an heir; and he probably wanted a younger woman to start a family with, someone who would not have had to give up an already blooming career, who would accept and wouldn’t question his authority. Minerva was obviously not the woman he could have been looking for, and he might have acknowledged it himself, because he had never mentioned marriage again, and after the shock of the proposal had worn off, she had been more than glad that he had reached out for her nevertheless, given them a chance to talk it through, and allowed their interpersonal relationship to heal. And it had repaired, thank Merlin. 

At times it appeared to her that they were almost friends, even.

She liked him, she found him attractive in a way, always had (especially now in his crisp, white shirt with its long sleeves rolled up on his forearm, and with the hair on his temples and the sides of his beard beginning to turn slightly salt and pepper), but it was purely platonic and mainly based on admiration. Mr. Urquart had always represented a standard she aspired to reach, and Elphinstone did not cease to be a benchmark-setter for her. 

She often felt immature and irrational around the man she looked up to so sincerely. And so once he took her hand and took that stupid little leaf out of her hair, she knew she made a fool of herself yet again in front of him. Elphinstone twirled the leaf in their hands.

‘There. So formidable.’ 

He was sarcastic. Was he mocking her?

But at least when he laughed, he did not do it at her expense, it was her sarcasm he appreciated, and it made a handful of butterflies flapping around in her chest from pride.  _She made Elphinstone Urquart laugh!_ She finally had a reason to be smug about. He squeezed his eyes shut and his shoulders shook as a rumbling sound bursted out of him. It lasted for about a couple of seconds, then he rearranged his posture, but the spark remained in his eyes for a little longer. 

‘So this is how it sounds like. I have always wanted to hear it!’ She knew she just witnessed something not many could. 

They were discussing broom brands all the way back to the Estate’s gate, and once it came to saying their goodbyes, she realized that she had forgotten to show him something she hoped he would appreciate.

Perhaps it was his size, or maybe simply the air of power and strength that radiated off his overwhelming frame, making her somewhat heady and giddy, but she felt compelled to step away from him and look at his tall and elegant self from a distance. And Minerva sensed that it rubbed him the wrong way for some reason, although he did not verbalize it, making a genuine effort to show interest in her little excitement.

‘Do you know what day it is today?’

‘August the 18th.’

So much time had passed since then, she was already 24 years of age, 18 felt to be not six years, but decades away. Minerva didn’t think she appeared to be way too young anymore. And she really hoped that she had successfully progressed from ‘ _a_ _pleasant_ _surprise_ ’ to something else in his eyes. But he was not as appreciative of the document as she had hoped, and it seemed that he promptly wished to exit the scene. He was right, it was rather late.

Elphinstone appeared to be unsure for a moment how to say goodbye. A handshake, a handkiss, a-

Then he leaned forward, and he was there, in her space, not crowding her, but... it was pointless to deny that he took her breath away when she felt his lips and trimmed beard on her cheek. 

‘Goodbye.’ He delivered the farewell right in her ear.

Her brain keenly registered how his rusty bass sent tingles town her spine, but in turn, everything else switched to slow motion. As a result, the witch missed the moment to press her lips against the cheek he offered and she hesitated for a second longer than she should have, not being able to decide if she should aim for his other cheek. It seemed for a split second that their heads would bump together, but instead it was their lips that touched. 

Her head got suffused with heat at once and her breathing hitched. How could she possibly be so clumsy?  _This is where you apologize, and step back_ , she reminded herself, but she could not move, her limbs felt paralyzed. All the same however, she kept fighting an irrational, stupid, stupid, utterly stupid magnetic pull drawing her closer to him. 

And was he leaning closer too? Why was he leaning closer?

His lips sealed over hers. They were warm and soft, in a delightful contrast with his beard scratching against her cheek.

Minerva gasped, her palm finding his chest, not quite sure if she should shove him away or run her hand to the breadth of his shoulders, to the nape of his neck.

Her fingers grasped the fabric as he... _by Merlin!_ The sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue was enough for a complete shock to set in. It was just as thrilling as terrifying, but she had no idea what to do, not even sure how to kiss him back. 

Or how to kiss, in the first place. 

It felt like he was trying to wake her up from her daze to participate, but it was hopeless in a way. She was in such a state of sensory overload that she would have been unable to reciprocate even if she had known how to... well, kiss. She had no idea how kissing was supposed to be done in practice.

Minerva felt weak and dizzy with something she couldn’t identify, intensely aware of every single point of contact between the two of them, and the heavy warmth of his hand sliding around her waist, then suddenly and almost immediately retreating did not help to relieve her sweet confusion either.  It was truly beyond her comprehension why he thought he could, should kiss her. 

Then he stopped and his lips left hers.  The witch felt him retreat once she gently applied pressure onto his chest. 

Once Minerva got back to her senses, quickly ducked her head away, and drew away from him. When she glanced back at the man, he looked oddly abandoned.

There _were_ a lot of ‘well then’s,  ‘so yeah’s and ‘um’s after the awkward, deafening silence which followed the kiss. 

‘I really enjoyed today. I mean, until this...’ she added. ‘What I mean is that-  _gosh_.’ 

He could see her blushing and turning erratic, almost shaking with crippling embarrassment.

‘What I try to articulate is that we should repeat today in the future, except...’

‘Except the kiss,’ Elphinstone granted her mercy by finishing the sentence.

‘And  _despite_ the kiss.’ 

Minerva sighed deeply in an attempt to soothe her nerves. She took a couple more steps back, away from him.

‘I should not have... acted in a manner which could suggest that... I was enjoying myself in your company maybe a little too much, but it was not my intention to give either overt or tacit encouragem-‘

‘Please,’ Elphinstone intervened, dismayed by her logic. She could not possibly blame herself for his lack of consideration. ‘I am the only one who should be held responsible for this relapse of judgement. It barely has to do with how you might or might have not acted today, it’s...’

He slowly ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair, searching for the right words.  _It’s your very being that makes me a lovesick fool,_ he thought, but it would have been utterly unfair to frame the problem like that. It was all in the eye of the beholder, and he knew better than to inflict the blame on her just because he himself for whatever goddamn reason foolishly lusted after her.

‘I honestly do not know what I was thinking.’ He really didn’t. When their lips had touched by chance, it had kicked off a chain reaction in spite of his best efforts.

‘I like to spend time with you, Elphinstone. As a... but not as a... We have talked about it,’ Minerva said quietly.

‘We have. And so I shall apologize for this thoughtless intrusion.’ He said no more, knowing that his selfish action was destructive and probably weakened the trust between them greatly. The trust which they had slowly built back after his blunt suggestion of marriage three years ago.

Elphinstone was aware of his demanding, parsimonious character, the intimidating expression that seemed to be ever-present on his face, and that he was well known for his cutthroat attitude and cold demeanor. It was not his cinnamon roll character that attracted women. Yet no woman had ever turned him down. No woman had ever shown disinterest in him once he had initiated something. Not that he had ever had to try hard. He was wealthy, handsome and masculine, and the combination of these qualities was attractive enough to have his way easily with anyone. 

Except - it seemed - with Minerva McGonagall.

But she intrigued him nevertheless - even after she had made clear to him that she could not imagine the two of them neither in a romantic partnership, nor in a marriage of convenience - and he could not help it.

The new refusal did not feel right, but made sense to him. He was not a pleasant man, and she could indeed have had a taste of it while she had been his assistant. And he was several years older than her. Anything he might have been feeling was undoubtedly one-sided.

‘I have never kissed before. Like... _this_ ,’ she stuttered finally, not quite knowing if her words were meant to be an accusation of theft or an apology for being so palpably inexperienced. ‘I mean, with...  you know.’

He knew what she meant even if her sentence remained unfinished. She was trying to refer to the French kiss in a more profane way.  _With her tongue._

Fantastic. 

Elphinstone did not know if the awkwardness of the situation could be further elevated, yet he just realized that what was no big deal to him, might have been equal to deflowering in a way to her.

‘Forgive my inconsideration.’ He heard himself sounding even more closed off than usual. ‘You should have deserved something enjoyable and pure-intentioned.’

She was just a girl, it crossed the wizard’s mind. Despite her 24 years, and compared to his 44, she was just a girl. She might have had an impressive  _résumé_ and an incredible apt for teaching and all things transfiguration, a convincing and almost commanding presence for an impactful presentation, but she was guarded and innocent and vulnerable when it came to the matters of the heart and the desire of the body. 

With his actions, which were that much intimate and bold, he had crushed through her defense line, but she felt tremendously guilty all the same. Her childish, platonic longing for and innocent fondness of the handsome, mature, intelligent and always so self-assured Mr. Urquart had been forced to be reassessed when he had first indicated his interest in her, and now as she could not stop feeling the lingering sensation of his lips on hers and the shockingly pleasant and endearing softness of his tongue as if he was still kissing her, she was really scared of what she had brought into being. She had worked him up, and she knew that he was not someone to play with. 

Minerva had told him earlier that day that she did not think of him being that formidable anymore. The truth was, he was still rather formidable to her, but she felt a strange aching nevertheless to be around him and absorb everything he could offer. To demystify the man, to open him up, and to see the person hiding underneath the mask. The mask which was cracking a tiny bit every single time they were together and which was covering something truly enticing and wickedly alluring. If she had not known Dougal and their own little pink bubble of exalted happiness and synchronicity, she would have probably likened attraction to what was drawing her towards her former boss. But the memory of her bond with Dougal were not to be disrespected like that.

‘I feel this... connection too. But it’s not meant to be,’ she said finally on a much more mature tone than he expected. ‘It’s not like that.’

‘Not like what?’ He couldn’t help, but ask.

_Love_ , she wanted to say, but she didn’t. _Love?_ he wanted to ask, but he didn’t. 

She  thought she knew what love was supposed to  feel like. He had no idea how love was supposed to feel like.

‘What is it, then? For you, Minerva?’ Elphinstone’s voice softened, his question was almost comforting in an odd way.

‘I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘Something too precious to spoil.’

‘It is something precious, lass,’ the man sighed, holding her sad gaze. He cupped her right cheek and she did not flinch. Her eyes fluttered shut when his thumb brushed over her skin. He dropped his arm. ‘Well then...’

‘Have a safe journey back to London.’

Elphinstone nodded curtly, and turned to leave.  Exhaustion started to creep back into his muscles, into his head.

‘Let’s keep in touch,’ he heard from behind his back. 

He turned around, and could see Minerva’s silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun.

‘Please keep in touch. I have two tickets for the  _Montrose Magpies vs.  Pride of Portree _and no one to go with. Two weeks from now. End stands. ‘I know it’s not the best place, but...’ She was chewing on her lips in anticipation.

Elphinstone suppressed a smile.

‘I have already secured a box directly in line with the halfway line,’ he said. ‘If I promised you that I will behave myself, would you rather join me?’

‘I would.’ A relieved smile appeared on her face.

’Then I promise.’

’Then I will join you.’ Minerva said right before the sun disappeared under the horizon and hid her out of sight.

She was not willing to let him walk out of her life like that.

What they shared was indeed too precious to spoil - in one way or another.

**Author's Note:**

> Many of my Minerva/Elphinstone fanfictions might be rather confusing in terms of how she feels about him.  
> My idea is that she used to have a genuine admiration/fondness towards him, but his intentions and her enduring feelings for Dougal confuse and possibly scare her, and they have to build things up from ground zero. 
> 
> I imagine Minerva being very much attracted to Elphinstone and even more so as the years go by, and their connection develops (from Minerva’s point of view) starting from a strong intellectual bond and mutual respect to an intense physical attraction, and eventually to the purest form of romantic love.  
> From Elphinstone’s side all of these above are present from quite early on. 
> 
> I might make a collection of my fics where the timeline - as I imagine it - could make more sense. But in the meantime, the precise years in which the stories take place are indicated intentionally.


End file.
